This past Sunday while waiting for St. Pauli Girl to get ready for church, I stumbled across this headline in an online newspaper:
“Pope Adds Children’s Book to Resume.”
Fantastic. It’s high time the Catholic Church got its act together and addressed the innocents it strives to protect.
Luckily, I got my hands on an advance copy of the Pope’s new book:
The Friends of Jesus
by The Pope
Greetings, Little Sheep! As the Head Shepherd, I want to take a moment and talk to you about your future with the Church.
Jesus had 12 apostles (“groupies,” you could say). Each one had traits that we still see in today’s church-goers and staff, and you will meet people very similar to them throughout your life.
To make it easier for you youngsters to understand, I’m going to call our modern-day apostles . . .
The Seven Dwarves
Dopey: Dopey is the only female in the group. The original Dopey, when traveling with Jesus around Galilee, always said annoying stuff like, “Why don’t you stop and ask for directions?” and “Did you bring enough fish and bread for everyone?”
As you will soon learn in your religion classes, a woman like Dopey is only good for being a nun or making babies. Dopeys can’t become priests. But they can be nuns which is almost as good because they get to spank children and rap their knuckles with rulers. They just can’t take it to the next level.
Remember, we should always respect women like Dopey. After all, without all the Dopeys of the world we wouldn’t have so much fun replenishing the flo… oh wait, that’s an adult joke between me and the Cardinals.
And what do you say when someone asks if women should be priests? That’s right, “Oh, that’s just ‘Dopey’!”
(Girls, you can stop reading at this point. Assuming you know how to read, ha-ha!)
Grumpy. As an apostle, Grumpy was the one who always whined, “Are we there yet?” and “Do you have to wash our feet first? I’m hungry.” Grumpy is the not-yet retired priest who is relegated to the Sunday matinee mass rather than the 10 a.m. Main Event. You’ll recognize Grumpy because he
is still pissed off about Vatican II,
thinks Latin is good for you (because it was good enough for him, dammit)
won’t give up on the vintage fire and brimstone sermon.
And you’ll remember Grumpy because he yelled at you for talking in church, or chewing gum, and we all know that’s the quickest route to hell.
Happy. Happy’s the young priest at your church, fresh from seminary, learning the ropes of priesthood. He plays an important role with the youth group and is very friendly compared to Grumpy. In fact, he’ll likely offer you gum and invite you to play touch football, in which you can expect to be on the “skins” team. Don’t be afraid, little guy; he only wants to make you happy too.
Happy may invite you to go camping or to a movie and he may even give you your first taste of bourbon. (Ah yes, I remember the first time I took the youth group to the cinema, way back before I became Pope. The movie was a remake of “Shaft” starring Dale DaBone. Great flick.)
Doc. You should never be afraid of the doctor, which can also be said of your parish pastor, the senior priest who’s like a doctor, except better! He’ll probably recruit you to be an altar boy. This requires a physical exam. There may be tickling involved, a second taste of bourbon, and maybe a round of the fun game “Can You Find the Candy in My Pocket?”
Doc will probably take you out to a nice restaurant like “Between the Buns.” To earn brownie points with God, you should offer to wash Doc’s car. In tight shorts, no shirt. Lots of soap. (I digress . . . now where was I?)
Bashful. This is the apostle you should strive to be. Nothing sinks a church like loose lips. Happy, Doc and myself will forever be in your debt if you remain bashful. In fact, I can guarantee you’ll get to heaven (no matter what Grumpy says) if you keep your mouth shut. I can do that; I’m the Pope.
Judas. He’s the opposite of Bashful, and he’s on a hayride to hell. Stay away from Judas. He’s in the clutches of Satan and the Trial Lawyer’s Association, who’s always trying to extort money from me and the Church. If, like Judas, you squeal to authorities, you’ll be immediately ex-communicated from the Church. I’ll call Satan on his private line, and he’ll then personally come and possess you, making your head spin and causing you to spew vomit all over your mom and dad and Rover. You’ll wish you hadn’t said anything, and your mom and dad will have to have Doc come and exercise, I mean, exorcise you.
Vito. Vito was Jesus’s top lieutenant, kind of like the Lone Ranger’s Tonto, or better yet, Batman’s Robin. And we have a bunch of Vito’s here in the Church. Vito carries a baseball bat and a Luger. You may run into him someday when you’re trying to decide between accepting a ride from Bashful or Judas. He’s got ways to persuade you to ride with Bashful.
So remember kids, just like Jesus had his Apostles, so the modern day priest has his Dwarves. Strive to be the best little sheep you can be. Then someday, a priest may choose you from the flock, stand behind you, and guide you to heaven.